I BECAME WIND










I feel the movement of the wind, it creeps between my fingers, transforms my blue dress making it sway like sea water. melancholy hits me, I close my eyes and breathe distant air. melancholy of places never seen before, of lights and colors; I feel them under my skin without ever having lived them. the murmur of the wind among the leaves becomes more intense, it cradles my faded memories. I feel consumed. - but who am I? a wrapper. an empty, jagged shell. I do not know. I don't know who I am. a muffled melody, I barely feel it and my body becomes stone. and within that body of stone the pain that was awakens. and I feel it squeeze my breath, hold it, scratch it, and my chest burns, torn and wants to explode, but it doesn't. it was, but it is no longer. I open my eyes, the sky clears up, I feel it calling me. there is a perfume, when it is no longer night, but it is not yet morning. there is a tangible scent that the wind carries with it and in silence I I hear peace. and in the stillness of that juncture which is no longer night, but not yet morning, the words of the wind fly free. the air is crisp, the grass wet, the trees sway and I seem to hear them talking. I seem to see them dance. the wind is becoming, it is change. the wind blows, while the sun rises on the horizon, brash, alive, passionate. it blows hard enough to lift my feet off the ground. and while the world still sleeps I fly over thoughts, dreams, I fly light like a butterfly towards the sky. I become of wind.

FLYING HIGH

I love airplanes, fighter, airliners, airplanes and everything that flies. But in particular the fighters. My dream was to be a fighter pilot, even if I have always been contto la gueera. How strange yes, but as a child I would wake up in the night hearing bombs explode, and I saw American soldiers in my room, and maybe in a previous life I was a pilot. However, for me, take-off and landing are like ecstasy and it is the height of pleasure to be up there. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make my dream come true. I also really like the flight equipment, the pilot suits, the cockpit, the air disasters, the films dealing with air disasters.
Sometimes the fighters from Aviano arrive here above my house and it is very exciting to see them flying low. For me it’s like I’m up there with them.

WE’VE LOST THE NIGHT

We are the ones that the night swallows,
those that the sound pushes away the unlit lights come on
we fly over the extinguished flames
We are the ones who lost their wings while they were not flying
We are light as feathers and we listen to the wind.
We are the ones who don’t dream at night, sleep doesn’t touch them,
life doesn’t even touch them. We are free from any vulgar emotion.
We walked with Arthur while he wrote, and we were crazy, and he screamed.
But we are no longer the poets of the past, with drugs in ink.
We saw the world as it became and we hated it until we didn’t write anymore

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